


work in progress feel free to read

by orphan_account



Category: nick cutter's The Deep
Genre: Bad Coping Methods, Face-Fucking, Fist Fighting, Forced Crossdressing, Hate to Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Hatred, Supernatural Elements, training school for kids with evil supernatural abilities, using sex as a coping method, z is lowkey in love but he hasn't figured it out yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:43:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: read it if you'd like, but as the title says, its an incomplete work. something that i just thought up and felt like writing. I named  places after places from the book The Deep by Nick Cutter, but no actual characters from the story are in here yet. We'll see how this goes, and if I end up writing more.I also stopped capitalizing halfway through because it's getting late. I will fix it, though, even if I don't end up doing anything else.





	work in progress feel free to read

On his first day, X walks into the Hesperus with dead eyes, a flippant attitude, and his bags full of dresses and stereotypical girls clothes.

Z leaves with his loving, supportive family and steps aboard the Hesperus with the air of a man confident in his skills.

Naturally, they begin by hating each other.

 

HESPERUS  
X never actually wore his dresses. He lay them out, hung them out, and stole the clothes of the group of allies he could form. His voice is high, mocking. In Z's eyes, always, always mocking. X makes sure that his clothes always match his body and mind. Men's clothes. His classmates learn to fear his mood swings. The instructors take note of his exceptional talent and potential.

They notice Z, too, for all the same reasons. The invitation to attend new classes and training in the legendary Trieste is extended to them and a few others only.

By the time they are authorized to descend to the Trieste, the Hesperus student body has seen them do everything short of kill each other. They still aren't friends.

 

TRIESTE  
Life in the Trieste is different, very different. The sheer isolation forces everyone to form and strengthen new bonds. Once their souls crack and their bodies shred the survivors are trained into their new powers. The only thing that stands in the way of spilled lifeblood between the two is the rule against testing their new immortality. The rules are different here in the Trieste, too. Fight out any arguments, and fuck it out if you still have energy.

It becomes their new routine. Fight until they bleed- until the presence that enshrined itself at the back of their human shaped skulls pulse in warning. If X's self-healing had been good before, it was almost reflex now. In the space between the front of Z's mind, where he has to look at it directly and acknowledge its presence, and the back of his mind where its so easy to box up ideas and melt them, a thought lingers. (Why isn't it reflex? New clothes he never wears after each break home. Always bruised, after, too. Un-healed.) The last parts of his thoughts are even harder to look at. (maybe he isn't accepted like I am at home boy I sure hope he's mine i want him i'm the one who gets to make him bleed make him smile every piece of him belongs to me i want him he's MINE)and (why doesn't he heal why doesn't he just kill them so weak sometimes buts that's okay). Fight until they feel that warning pulse, fight, then collapse where they stand to catch their breath. X always waits for Z to move first, always bottoms, always heals himself from whatever damage they do to each other, always waits for Z to leave first.

 

on his knees, he takes Z's cock down to the base, pulls off to breathe and lick at the head, sees the blood from his nose on the soft skin. a snapshot a different dick, one he never wants in his mouth, smeared with lipstick he does't want to wear flashes behind his eyelids. X stomach twists and for a second he hates himself. he hates the overlap between reality and memory, hates that he likes it, hates that this turns him on, hates himself.

so he keeps going, allows his hands to curl around the muscle of Z's thighs, relaxes his throat, and lets Z fuck his mouth. his eyes slip closed and focuses on all the ways the dick in his mouth feels different from the only other one he made himself swallow around. focuses, and loses himself in the pleasure and release that fucking the man who hates him brings.

 

Z focuses on making himself feel good, getting himself off, knowing that this is what will make X cum, (giving him this, it feels like he's giving him this) thinks about how to make X feel good when he doesn't seem to even want that, when X makes himself take more hurt than he likes. It feels like he is giving X this even though he's just taking from him(he feels vaguely sick but this is what X needs). he fucks the dead out of X's eyes and screams a little inside at the fact that he's going to have to do it again tomorrow, and every time after. for now, he makes X feel in one of the few ways he is allowed, and cums at the thought of getting X to let himself enjoy it when they're ties together.


End file.
